Improbable Forgery - A Dragon Ball and Umineko Crossover
by FutureTrunks98
Summary: An Umineko and Dragon Ball Crossover! What will happen to our heroes Goku and Vegeta as they get deeply involved in Beatrice's "game"? How about Battler and Maria? Kyrie? Mirai Trunks and Android 17? Will any of them find the witch Beatrice's gold and make it out ALIVE? [ I'm ONLY Co-Producer of this story! Semi-Yaoi involved within the story! ]
1. Chapter 1

...What exactly did it mean to be "Game Master"? In the most basic of human terms...it was a producer. The weaver of tales and many fates, who had visions en masse that would all be possibilities to consider for an entertaining story, as well as considering the rules of any story of that game board. Though, those roaming Witches, with their inexorable taste for the sweet droplets of entertainment known as "havoc", would cackle in the most mocking of manners towards such a conclusion. Writer? Producer? As if tying that ever entertaining and desirable title to the lowly standards of the physical, human world, whom many Witches indeed simply snickered down at from their inconceivable thrones.  
However...  
This is not a tale of the exploits of those arrogant Witches. Nor is it a tale of the agonizing drudgery of creating a fitting, consistent tale as a Game Master. This is but an Improbable Forgery. When one publishes their work for all to view...certainly some shall create their own interpretations of this tale. Some go even farther by creating extensions of said tale, or possibly creating their own brand new tales with nods to or uses of that respectable creative license (with appropriate and just permissions). To this end one can perceive a story to be as eternal as the existence of humans themselves. So long as, by some miracle, that tale lives on as a single fragment of the creative minds of many theatergoers and readers.  
...You'd be aware of this, wouldn't you? With every creative mind also comes a delusional one. Needless to say, one can appropriately visualize the result of someone of such a mindset trying to weave their own interpretation or tale as an individual forgery. Whatever thought which could slightly prod at, tickle, even pleasure that fragment in a delusional man's head...they can create a tale around it, no matter how inappropriate. Witches are entertained by the likes of such theatergoers, and why wouldn't they? Such utter disregard of a felicitous, rational root to an expertly crafted tale's continuity, simply to please the delusional mind. Even for a simple human, reading or witnessing something of that nature could prove to dissolve the poison of boredom.  
Now...this shall be the reality of the forgery weaved before you dear readers and theatergoers today. For one could be so delusional as to assume that a deformed pebble from the stars could bolt from the heavens to pierce and peak into this eternal catbox.. Could one even consider that fantasy?  
"All the same it is for us. You simply know your role as an author now...your piece and tale shall be recognized, even for this minuscule moment. Cherish that, even before the final moment everything scatters and is rendered meaningless. I give you eternal freedom, with one role...do not ever, ever bore us. Kihihihi..."  
The Witch of Miracles has acknowledged this outcome, as ridiculous as it is. Even as foolish as it may be, it has been granted the honor of recognition from the Game Master, and the eternal Witch.. Let fiction become truth, this is the power of the eternal catbox.


	2. Chapter 2

...

"What do we do about the others now, eehh..?"

Rudolf looked to his wife, beautifully adorned and riddled with rose petals. Not exactly those of a flower...graceful, beautiful bright red flower petals that only the human body could produce. But it wasn't simply Kyrie who had so wonderfully wore those petals, as if they were of the finest jewelry- Rudolf himself was stained with them considerably. The fresh, trickling blood was that of his siblings. Indeed...who else had the ability to so seamlessly and elegantly carry a gun like Kyrie?

Or had the lethal, practiced reflexes of Rudolf as he pointed the cold barrel of his gun down at his siblings. His family, which he had offered little mercy in the complete massacre of. Truthfully...Rudolf would rather have not resorted to doing so, but what had happened between the gold, had simply happened. Now his darling had conceived a brilliant plan, and they were going to exact it and live the rest of their lives together in gleeful leisure. As he looked up at the sky with...a most peculiar expression and began chuckling madly, he pondered...and wondered.

He needed some time to mull over how fortunate he felt, to have a wonderful wife like Kyrie, who had fully awoken him now. Yes, it was a wonderful, warm feeling for him, that washed over his entire body from the center of his chest.

"...Now now, we're not quite done yet. We have to deal with those guests of Kinzo's first, before finishing off the little ones. I hope you already have an explanation for your son, right, dear?"

Kyrie herself hadn't been nearly as ecstatic as her husband. But perhaps that had been even eerier. Blinded by that vast sum of wealth, she wore the most casual, unbothered smile as she went about drenched in fresh blood. Nothing mattered...they'd have everything to themselves, and that was that. Kyrie hardly considered her own child in this whole vile, grotesque affair, no less the lives of her husband's family. But right now, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

Herself and her husband had begun cleaning their clothes of the quaint red petals that adorned them. That most certainly would be suspicious, unfortunately. It gave her time to ponder over any last second brilliant plans for Rudolf and herself. Once all was said and done, with a kind smile, as if asking for him to go pick up the groceries-

"Dear, we should call them out one by one, don't you think? Let's first try to deal with the annoying, foolish one first."

Rudolf in turn looked back, offering a content nod and smirk as he continued fiddling with that beautiful gun, which he'd still be fascinated by to this very day.

"Yeah- I'll call him out by the chapel and report back if any...unfortunate developments occur with his friend or the kids. But try not to frighten Battler, I'd hate to have to pull the trigger on him."

Rudolf said, with a comical look of plea. It was...bizarre, seeing their expressions in comparison to their actions. Kyrie gave a light chuckle and nodded, briskly walking over to the phone and dialing up the landline for the guesthouse, in which the cousins and the guests would be most likely playing..

"Yes? Hello, George-kun. Could you give the phone to Son-kun, there's something important I must speak with him about."

Most likely the foolish, naïve Saiyan would pick up and continue to be fooled by every trick in her sleeve. After all, Kyrie had been an extraordinary woman, with intellect that theatergoers could only applaud and cheer for.

"Son-kun.. I'll make this quick, but... Rudolf and myself are in quite a bit of distress right now. The adults here continue to argue, and it's escalating quite quickly. Could you please meet Rudolf at the front of the chapel outside..?"

With a kind, concerned demeanor, she poured out the lies which the hopeless Saiyan would most likely accept without a second thought. Rudolf had already made his way to the chapel, and had reached the destination with the utmost of haste.

Leaning against the chapel wall, he calmly took a drag of a freshly lit cigarette. In the darkness behind him, his trusty gun, like his malevolent intentions, had been masked completely..

Now, he waits.


End file.
